(Not) About You

par lungYou may think

that this poem is written for you…

You may be right or you may not,

in fact,

the only way

to discern exactly what’s in my heart,

to tell for whom I wrote this poem

(that spreads on a soul and a half)

is to grow soft wings

and become an angel for the most part…

(because a seraph would never spread any rumors

or unveil my secrets

or drink my pain with great delight).


You may think that

the poem at page twenty-two

is about you.

You may be right or you may not,

in fact,

feelings, too, suffer from insecurities,

and, yet, they are guiltless…

So, sink into my tears

and read my dusty ruins, dear,

read them all

and if you still think,

that this poem is about you,

be brave-for once in your life-

and simply just

…ask me…!

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